Side Story 1.8
Perhaps it was because it was his first time. Unlike his future self, who would indulge in debauchery, he was still a body unacquainted with women. For him, all the acts he had committed with the slave named Jaha—though not personally experienced but merely memories—were far too stimulating. And so, he became ensnared by them.
Like a newborn duckling imprinting on the first being it sees as its mother, he, too, had become sexually imprinted on the slave named Jaha. To him, that slave was lust incarnate. Nothing was more obscene than her. She became his standard.
Once he realized this, he resolved to be with other women. How could a lowly slave become the benchmark for one of his desires? It was unacceptable.
It must be because I don’t know any better, he thought. Once he experienced a woman who was prettier, with a more sensual body, that worthless slave would be nothing. She wouldn’t even catch his eye. He was quite optimistic.
But in the end, he failed. The moment he noticed differences from that slave, his heat cooled as if it had been a lie. He couldn’t bring himself to continue. Even when he tried with different partners, the result was the same. Time and again, he was defeated.
And so, unlike his future self, he was still handling things alone like this. Now, it wasn’t enough to simply recall her—he even called out her name. For some unknown reason, whispering that name excited him even more.
Jaha. The name itself was bizarre. It gave him a sense of dissonance, as if she definitely wasn’t from this land.
‘She said she came from beyond the sea.’
Was she still there? Or had she already arrived here?
If she was somewhere on this continent…
‘And if she is, then what?’
Would he go to meet her?
He scoffed. What would he even do if they met? He was seventeen now, meaning she was still just a child. He had no such depraved tastes as to lay hands on a child. In truth, he deeply despised those who called such acts “preferences.”
‘No, I’m not a beast. Even if I met her, it’s not like I’d only do that.’
Since she’s a child, he could just dote on her. He wasn’t entirely a cold-hearted man, after all. He could pat a child’s head, let them sit on his lap, or even feed them sweets.
He imagined himself sitting the young slave Jaha on his lap and stroking her hair. On the table were all kinds of sweets. Since he didn’t know what she’d like, he’d have to prepare all the famous ones. But a simple table wouldn’t be enough for that.
‘It has to be a dining table.’
A grand banquet table would be perfect. He’d cover it with colorful sweets, then sit her on his lap and feed them to her one by one. Kids love sweets, so she’d probably eat them eagerly, like a baby bird. As she nibbled with her tiny mouth, crumbs would stick to her lips, so he’d wipe them gently with a soft handkerchief. A child’s skin is delicate, so he’d have to be careful not to hurt her. Even as an adult, she was soft and fragile—how much more tender must she be now?
Kids also sleep a lot, so after eating sweets, she’d probably start nodding off. Then he’d carry her to bed, patting her back soothingly until she fell asleep. And maybe he’d doze off beside her for a nap…
“What the—”
The crown prince snapped back to reality, his face twisting in disgust. What kind of absurd nonsense was this? The very thought made his skin crawl.
‘Taking care of a child? Me?’
He shuddered at the mental image of himself acting affectionately toward a little girl. It was so revolting his insides twisted. Why would he ever do something so out of character? Trembling with revulsion, he rose from the bathtub.
◇ ◆ ◇
The crown prince who had gone out hunting wore an expression of dissatisfaction. Naturally, the nobles held their breaths, wary of displeasing his temper.
Ever since the crown prince, who did not enjoy hunting, had suddenly declared he would accompany them, they had been inwardly tense.
What sudden whim is this? Could he have some other purpose?
Imperial royals, born with formidable magical power, were never easy opponents—but among them, the crown prince was in a league of his own. A monster that might appear once in a thousand years. The deeper the magical power, the more piercing those flawless violet eyes became—gazing into them was enough to send chills down one’s spine. They hardly seemed human.
Though every imperial descendant since the founding emperor Abrixa had possessed violet eyes, they still found it uncanny how a human’s eyes could be such a shade of blue. It was a color befitting gemstones. Or perhaps demons.
At any rate, just like those impervious eyes, the crown prince left no openings in even the smallest gesture. Nobles who had once schemed to find his weaknesses before his inevitable ascension to the throne had all been thoroughly crushed—enough to make their eyes bulge in defeat.
That demeanor, paired with his unreal beauty, only deepened the sense of dissonance. Among those who knew him, there wasn’t a soul who didn’t find him difficult. Inscrutable and flawless, the crown prince seemed less like a human and more like something other.
The nobles kept their heads bowed, exchanging cautious glances. Their conclusion was unanimous: for unknown reasons, they must not incur the crown prince’s displeasure. They spiraled into irrational, self-centered delusions—perhaps he had come to seize a pretext to eliminate them. Never mind that the crown prince had not so much as a speck of interest in them.
The truth was, the crown prince was simply in a foul mood.
Discussion
0 CommentsNo comments yet.